The Gentleman's Affair
by Oceanbourne
Summary: Here's something you wouldn't expect a fox and a crocodile to have in common. An attempt at satirizing the lore and the fanfiction I've read on site here. This idea was developed super late at night so not polished at all. Unsure what direction to take it.


For the hundredth time he summoned every gram of willpower he could muster to convince himself he just had to walk forward and introduce himself.

Honestly, how hard could it be? After all, he was a champion of the League of Legends, having participated in countless battles much more intimidating. He had been in the heat of battle, dodging projectiles of death zooming every which way around his head, knowing one misstep would cost him his life, and didn't feel any pangs of anxiety from it. So what was it that made him so nervous?

Was it because she was also a champion? Was he worried that she'd find him out of her league? Besides the wordplay arguably making the situation worse, he knew it wasn't an inferiority complex, considering that out of all the people who ended up trampled by him in the end, at least half of the unfortunate victims were female – the most common being those poor markswomen who thought having a ranged weapon could save themselves from his wrath.

It must have been the perfume. It was newly recommended to him by that devious cougar a few days ago. This was his first time wearing it, and perhaps the foreign scent was the reason for his discomfort. Making a note to confront Nidalee about the probably dubious origins of the cologne, he threw away the box into a nearby receptacle and continued his pacing back and forth.

He checked to see if he had someone in his teeth. All clear this time. He had made good on his dentist's recommendation to floss nightly, and he took great pride in being able to maintain his pearly whites.

He would never understand these butterflies in his stomach, especially considering those were never in his diet to begin with. Meat, meat, and more meat, that was his ideal food rotation. Perhaps it was something in his dinner last night! Though he didn't particularly dislike herbs, he didn't have an acquired taste for them just yet – spending an eon or two in the desert would do that to your taste buds, but he figured he was fortunate not to have subjected himself to the bitter taste of Shuriman cactus like his brother had done.

He had to laugh at himself. Look how far he had fallen! Once a glorious keeper of the gates with a staunch demeanor and (still) intimidating figure, people should have been afraid to approach _him, _and even more afraid if he approached them. Not the "turn tail and run" kind of afraid, but more of the "armordillo in headlights oh God I hope he doesn't eat me" kind of afraid.

That seemed to give him more confidence. Nothing really had changed about him, so he should still be the formidable figure he previously was back in his natural world. Oh, he had missed the days where the antelope would actually chat with him about politics, psychology, and linguistics. Instead, on this strange world all the quarry would do is run away from him, and that's where he sighed and realized they were only fit to be next on the chopping block.

Deciding finally that he didn't want to wait ANOTHER eon to get this over with, he put down his book and began lumbering to the far side of the coffee shop where his target sat leisurely, a black-haired girl with ears like a fox, idly toying with a floating orb which she manipulated by moving her hand around, the orb mimicking its movements. It seemed to be smaller today, though he had never learned as to the cause of that fluctuation in size.

Keep it together now, he told himself. This is the moment.

"Excuse me, miss, but…" he stammered.

She turned to behold the person addressing her. "Hi there! Hey, haven't I seen you on the Rift before?"

"Ehm, well, that may be the case. I have received some recognition amongst summoners lately, so…"

"I have! I remember you! You're that one guy who turns big with the sand all around him with the cane that makes me feel like you're about to slap a –"

"No, no! That's my brother. We're nothing alike. I'm… well, as you can tell, I'm a crocodile," he corrected, wondering if his statement sounded as stupid to her as it did to him.

She gave him a blank expression, attempting to process the new information he had given to her. Then her face lit up. "Oh! Now I know! You're the other guy who turns big and cuts people in half with that big blade of yours. Except I don't think you've ever caught me… I might be a bit too quick for you, don't you think?" she giggled.

Oh god, her laugh is infectious, he thought with horror as he felt himself grow more and more uneasy.

"Ah yes, of course, I suppose I'm not the quickest around. Anyways, I was wondering what your name –"

"I'm Ahri!" she interrupted, seeming to get really excited for no particular reason at all. "You must be…" She cocked her head to the side, trying to piece together her memory. "Sorry, I have no idea. Don't be offended, a lot of people seem to want to introduce themselves to me lately. I wonder why…"

I might have a few ideas, he thought. "It's Renekton."

"Oh yeah, Renekton! Now I know I remember that name! Whenever the announcer lady says that someone's been slain in top lane your name is the one I keep hearing! You must be really good at beating people up."

"I… suppose you could say that," Renekton managed. Well, if she was going to do all the talking, it wouldn't be too hard to hold the conversation, although she wasn't letting him get to the point he really wanted to make…

"Anyways, Ahri, I was wondering if you had a bit of free time, cause I was thinking we could hang out a bit and uh, get to know each other," he offered, trying very hard to not sound like a convicted murderer.

"Heeeey," she said, dragging the word out. "Sounds like a great idea. You seem like a pretty interesting guy, maybe you can help me with something I was going to do in a bit! You see, I make ends meet by… oh, how do I put this lightly… taking the souls out of guys I come across. Don't look at me like that, it's not like I kill them! I just take their essence!" she said a bit too cheerfully.

"I can't imagine you tell them that before you do it," Renekton observed, a bit terrified.

"Well of course! I told you, so I'm not going to do it to you… at least right now," she said, laughing mischievously. "Or if you like, I could… show you how I do it. I think you'd find it really fun."

Renekton definitely didn't like where this was going, so he decided to get straight to the point. "Well, I just wanted to do something relaxing… that whole process you just mentioned seems a bit stressful."

"Yeah, I guess. So what did you want to do? Take a walk in the gardens? Go for a swim in the pool? I bought this really cute swimsuit the other day…"

"Actually," he said very seriously, "I was wondering if you were willing to check out this critique I wrote on Locke's _Two Treatises of Government, _cause I figured that, you know, you seemed like the most educated person here at the coffee shop," he said, bringing out a freshly typed stack of papers.

She frowned. "Uh… this isn't exactly my interest," she began.

Renekton immediately turned a bright shade of red, hurrying to take back the papers. "I'm so sorry, I should never have suggested… ugh…"

"Yeah, Locke is kind of a boring political philosopher, don't you think? All that stuff about people having rights and naturally deserving things. Sounds pretty pampered if you ask me. Now Hobbes, there's a guy who knows what he's talking about. There is a man who knows how to take charge. It's what I like in both philosophers and guys in general!"

The crocodile just stared at her, dumbfounded. What on Runeterra did I just find, he asked himself.

"Yeah, if you could talk to me about some Hobbes, or Machiavelli, I'd be pretty interested," she mentioned coyly.

"Erm… how about von Neumann?" he offered, pulling a name out of the blue.

"Ooh! Game theory! I love games!" she sat up excitedly. "Now that's something I'd gladly spend a lot of time getting to know you with…"

"Well then, let's get to it!" Renekton said with equal enthusiasm.

She giggled. "Well, if you'd like to play with me, you'd better be sure you know the game… You know what they say about guys with big swords?"

"Big scabbards?"

"Poor understanding of government," she corrected.

Oh no. That was the last straw, Renekton decided. He had to resist the urge to transform into his full-on dominating mode, because no one, _no one, _ever slighted him when it came to politics. The last person to do so was that literall bird-brained Azir, and everyone knew what happened to Shurima after that.


End file.
